On the window seat a raven loitered, pale, huge. The bird is white.
The white ravens of the Citadel did not carry messages, as their dark cousins did. When they went forth from Oldtown, it was for one purpose only: to herald a change of seasons.
"Winter," said Ser Kevan.
Then something slammed him in the chest between the ribs.
What … who … A quarrel was sunk almost to the fletching in his chest. No. No, that was how my brother died. Blood was seeping out around the "Pycelle," he muttered, confused. "Help me … I …"
Then he saw. Grand Maester Pycelle was beneath his table. Dead.
"Tyrion?" he called. "Where … ?"
"Far away," a half-familiar voice replied.
The eunuch set the crossbow down. "Ser Kevan. Forgive me if you can. I bear you no ill will. This was not done from malice. It was for the realm. For the children."
I have children. I have a wife. Oh, Dorna. "There are … there are hundreds of Lannister guardsmen in this castle."
"But none in this room, thankfully. This pains me, my lord. You do not deserve to die alone on such a cold dark night. There are many like you, good men in service to bad causes … but you were threatening to undo all the queen's good work…"
Ser Kevan tried to rise, but the strength had left him. He could not feel his legs.
"I thought the crossbow fitting. You shared so much with Lord Tywin, why not that? Your niece will think the Tyrells had you murdered. The Tyrells will suspect her. Mistrust will eat the very ground beneath your boy king, whilst Aegon raises his banner above Storm's End.”
"Aegon?" He remembered. A babe swaddled in a crimson cloak, the cloth stained with his blood. “He’s dead.”
"No. He is here. Aegon has been shaped for rule since before he could walk. He has been trained in arms, as befits a knight to be,he reads and writes, he speaks several tongues, he has studied history and law and poetry.He has lived with fisherfolk, worked with his hands. Tommen has been taught that kingship is his right. Aegon knows that kingship is his duty, that a king must put his people first, and live and rule for them."
Kevan Lannister tried to cry out … to his guards, his wife, his brother … but the words would not come. Blood dribbled from his mouth. He shuddered violently.
"I am sorry." Varys wrung his hands. "You are suffering, I know. Time to make an end to it."
A child emerged from a pool of darkness. Another rose up behind the Grand Maester's chair. They had knives.
They were all around him, half a dozen of them…
A Dance with Dragons Epilogue - extract
